


The In-Between

by alicekittridge



Series: Moments In Time [2]
Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Present Tense, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicekittridge/pseuds/alicekittridge
Summary: Our lives are defined not by time, but by moments within time.ORA tiny collection of in-between moments.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie, Hannah Grose/Owen Sharma
Series: Moments In Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982450
Comments: 16
Kudos: 146





	The In-Between

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do a bit of a character study with these three, as they're my favorite characters, although honestly, it's hard to choose a favorite when everyone is so well-written. 
> 
> The rating is a mild M. 
> 
> Thank you for reading xx

**I.**

**O** ur lives are defined not by time, but by moments within time. Many moments lead to one, that one leads to others, and so on, until one moment declares the end. Right now, however, is the beginning of another, its predecessor the day of Owen’s mother’s funeral. The sound of zipper teeth parting recalls the peeling of black fabric, cooler air caressing an expanse of spine, along with the nearness of Jamie’s finger. The difference is this action isn’t so innocent. There’s no stepping away to tell Dani goodbye and leave her to undress in peace. It’s the opposite. Dani takes it all in, hoping to absorb every movement, every breath, every kiss, so she may replay them on nights where Jamie’s presence is needed elsewhere.

It’s impossible to drift anywhere else. With Edmund, Dani was always drifting, trying to escape her body, make herself smaller so she wouldn’t feel his touch, the wrong warmth of his body. Here, there’s only Jamie, whose hands help her from the confines of her jeans and sweater, whose kisses are just as filled with desire, who, despite radiating confidence, appears rather nervous.

Dani pulls back slightly to ask, “What is it?”

“I should be askin’ you that,” Jamie responds.

“He isn’t here,” Dani says gently, “if that’s what you mean.”

“You sure?”

“I haven’t jumped.”

“The bastard comes when we’re least expectin’ him,” Jamie says.

Dani takes her hand. Squeezes it. “I burned the last physical part of him I had. The night we had the bonfire. It was after everyone had gone.” She weaves her fingers between Jamie’s. She’s hanging on every word, has that focused look on her face that only comes about when she’s lost in gardening, or when Dani’s speaking. “So…” She meets Jamie’s eyes. “Will you let me take you to bed?”

Jamie’s free hand cups her face. She whispers, “That’s all you ever have to ask, Poppins.”

She’ll remember sheer bliss. The feeling of bare skin underneath her hands. Jamie’s face hovering above her own, and then under it, her hair splayed across the blue of the pillowcases. The morning after, when she, for once, rises before Jamie, and feels a measure of peace.

**II.**

**S** he woke to the smell of omelettes. An Owen breakfast specialty, and a favorite of the children. Coming into the kitchen, Hannah was surprised that Miles and Flora were not yet down. There was only Dani and Jamie at the table, their chairs side by side, their bodies facing each other. When did that happen? Hannah wondered, but didn’t comment on the matter. Truths were best willed out with little prodding.

“I hope Dani didn’t make the tea,” she said.

“She decided it was best to leave it to someone who can do a proper brew,” Jamie said. There was a smile touching her lips.

“Good morning to you, too, Hannah,” Dani said. She was smiling too.

“Oh, good morning, darling.”

Something crunched underneath Hannah’s feet when she stood beside Owen at the stove.

“Careful,” he whispered. “You’re walking on eggshells.”

“Very punny, _monsieur,”_ Hannah said. “The kids are sleeping quite late today.”

“It’s only seven,” said Dani.

“Is it?” She turned around. “No wonder I thought it was later. You’re not usually up at this hour, Miss Clayton.” She didn’t miss the glance that passed between Dani and Jamie. Had the weight in it been there before?

No, Hannah realized. It hadn’t. At least, not in such a soft way.

She smiled quietly to herself, before it disappeared at the reminder of what love at Bly turned people into.

Flora was the first down, summoned by will and breakfast. She was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she said, “Omelettes?”

“With scrambled egg, cheese, and chives,” said Owen. It smelled heavenly, and even in the pans, it looked like something out of a food magazine. Yet Hannah knew she could not eat it.

She was vaguely aware of Dani’s inquiring about Flora’s dreams and Flora’s replies, and Jamie’s half-serious, “I’ll kick the bastard if I have to.” This close to him, the world shrank until it was only her and Owen.

“You know,” Hannah said, “you _could_ open your own restaurant.”

“It would be quite ambitious of me, wouldn’t it?” Owen said. He slid two omelettes onto a large plate.

“But completely doable.” She thought. “Perhaps that’s what you could do in Paris. Find some charming building on a corner. Have a bright neon sign so yours is the most brilliant on the block.”

“We could manage it, I’m sure.” Already his wheels were turning, a reflection of the bonfire ramblings, but far more sober. Her heart grew warm at the fact that he wanted to keep her in his life.

Breakfast passed without incident. Miles emerged halfway through and sat without a word, save to tell Owen it was delicious. Flora declared her usual, already looking brighter. Then, having eaten all they wanted, the children left with Dani and Jamie, the latter promising to show them the proper way to prune roses. The girls walked close together, the space between them barely existent.

Alone at last, Hannah finally voiced her thoughts. “Something’s changed between those two.”

Owen nodded. “And,” he said around a bite of omelette, “I’m pretty sure Jamie was wearing that outfit yesterday.”

“Must’ve finally hit a home run.”

They shared a chuckle.

Hannah sighed. “The subtleties of love. They’re only observable to outside parties, I’m afraid.”

“Not unless the inside party looks hard enough.”

Their hands joined in the middle of the table.

“Thank you,” Owen said, “for the eggcellent morning.”

Hannah slapped his hand playfully away, and laughed.

**III.**

**I** t is, thinks Jamie, entirely possible to exist on multiple planes. One is the present, where she has Flora and Miles’ rapt attention as she carefully shows them how to clip thorns from the stem of a full rose; the other is the reminder that Dani’s skin is as soft as the petals. She doubles her focus so as not to give herself away to the woman in question, hovering just behind the kids.

“Clip ‘em as close to the stem as you can,” she says, “so there isn’t any sharpness.” _Clip. Rotate. Clip._ “And always at a diagonal angle.” The last thorn falls into the bucket between her knees. It’s a gorgeous rose. “Who wants to keep it?” she asks.

“Flora should,” Miles says, just as Flora declares, “I think you should give it to Miss Clayton.”

Dani smiles. Her face turns redder, the shade it had been when Jamie’s lips had travelled the silky expanse of her neck.

Dani says, “You can have it, Flora. Something to learn from.”

Jamie proffers the rose. Flora accepts it, her small, pleased grin melting into a frown of puzzlement.

“But,” says Flora, “don’t you like roses, Miss Clayton?”

“I do,” Dani replies, “but the thing about roses is they’re saved for grand gestures.”

“Peter brought Miss Jessel roses once, but gave them to me. I think he was playing.”

“He was only trying to win her over,” Jamie says sourly. “There can be falseness in big gestures. Now,” she hands the kids two small pairs of gardening gloves, “who wants to try?”

“You sure this isn’t some kind of punishment?” Dani asks a half hour later. Miles and Flora are on the other side of the garden, clipping their own roses, while she and Dani are paused at the white iron table. Jamie’s bucket is filled with thorns. Dani’s working on a white rose. Jamie has a half-smoked cigarette between her fingers.

“It’s not hard labor. It’s arts and crafts.”

“With living things.”

“Half-alive things, more like.”

“You don’t have to tell me you still hold a grudge against Miles for fucking up your garden.”

“All right,” Jamie sighs, “maybe I do. But I’m tryin’ to do it your way, Poppins.”

“And what is my way?”

“Not beatin’ the livin’ shite outta him.”

Dani isn’t looking at her, but her smile is soft. “I appreciate you not doing that. He had enough beatings at school.” She snips a last thorn and turns the rose to inspect it. She holds it out to Jamie. “How’s it look?”

Jamie plucks it from her fingers. “Not bad for your first one,” she says. “Some of these could be a little shorter.”

“I’ll fix it.”

Jamie gives it back. Watches her touch it up. When she concentrates, Dani tends to chew her lower lip, and a furrow appears between her brows. Jamie swallows, imagining the look in last night’s context, and takes a long drag on her cigarette. She doesn’t remember days after being this peaceful, or quite so soft.

Her next glance at Dani, she finds Dani looking back.

She clears her throat. “Want me to look at it again?”

Dani hands it back over. The thorns are as short as they need to be. Jamie nods her approval.

“Keep it,” Dani says.

“It’s the wrong color for the gesture you’re tryin’ to do,” Jamie says.

“Colors may matter to you, but to me… it’s more about the gesture.” Her fingers brush the back of Jamie’s hand. “You’ll say I have to set that aside, though.”

Jamie shakes her head. “I won’t.” She leans closer. “I quite like the gesture.”

Their lips meet gently but briefly, the kiss broken by the clatter of a bucket and Flora’s excited, “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie!” She skids to a halt in front of Jamie, clutching four red roses. “Will you inspect them, please?”

“Certainly, madam,” Jamie says, in the posh accent that makes Flora laugh. She studies the roses one by one. “They’re perfectly splendid.”

Flora smiles. “It sounds funny when you say it.”

“I’m not meant for poshness.”

“I like your real accent, Jamie.” Her eyes fall to the cigarette. “I don’t like that, though.”

“I’ll try to quit one day,” she promises. “But you don’t mind, do you, Poppins?”

“We all have habits,” Dani says. “Your roses are pretty, Flora. You should be proud.”

“Thank you, Miss Clayton.” She holds out her hands for the roses, and saunters back to Miles, who is cutting his at a snail’s pace.

“We’ll be here all day with that one,” Jamie says, jerking her chin in the boy’s direction.

“Not that you’d mind,” Dani says.

“Not now, I wouldn’t.”

The breeze picks up in the silence that passes between them. Autumn birds sing in the trees. No one would ever know this place had its own ghosts if they stepped onto the grounds and this scene was their first impression. Sometimes Jamie doesn’t believe. She only questions when the kids say strange things, or Dani talks to her about their dreams.

“This is really nice,” Dani says after a moment. “But it’s missing something.”

Jamie raises her brows.

“Iced tea.”

She shakes her head. “Fuckin’ Yanks.”

“Have you ever had it?”

“It sounds about as horrible as your hot tea,” Jamie says. She stubs out her cigarette.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Dani says.

“I think I’ll take your word for it, Poppins. That’s good enough for me.”

She stays for dinner and a little while after, and although she would like to accept Dani’s invitation to come back, it feels a little too soon. She promises her other nights. Kisses her deeply for good measure, returning to the other plane, wherein she pulls Dani with her into her bedroom and they stumble, again, to get out of their clothes. Here, though, she only pulls back and tells her good night and makes her way back down to the front of the manor. When she gets to her car in the half-lit drive, a familiar white rose is tucked underneath her left windscreen wiper. 


End file.
